


Exhaustion

by imperfectPacifist



Series: Comfort [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Featuring A Very Tired Dave, M/M, and A Very Angry John, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectPacifist/pseuds/imperfectPacifist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave comes home late, and forgets to tell John beforehand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm sorry.

Your name is Dave Strider and you are exhausted. You had just come back to your shitty apartment complex after staying at the library to take notes for a research assignment from one of your classes. The teacher hadn’t even given you time to prepare beforehand. He had just sprung this shit on you and your classmates like it was a fucking surprise circumcision.

You now stand in front of the stairs that lead up to your floor. It is at moments like this when you curse the owners of the complex for not installing an elevator. You are simply too exhausted to walk up all these steps. That and other more personal reasons.

Having no other choice, you begin your ascent. As you continue up the steps and to your apartment door, you keep your thoughts on the boyfriend that will be waiting for you at home...and the comfortable bed that you will be able to lay in soon.

However, when you open the door, you are greeted by the sight of a near frantic John pacing the floor of the living room. As soon as he spots you he stops, relief becoming clear on his face. 

“Dave! You’re okay!”

Then as you watch, his expression flips the switch from relieved to furious.

“Where the hell were you? More importantly, why didn’t you call or text me so I would know you weren’t going to be home at your normal time? That way, I wouldn’t of had to nearly have an ulcer worrying about you!” His voice rises in volume as his rant continued, coming to a peak during his final sentence.

You wince, not only from his yelling but from the realization that in your haste, you had left your phone off, as it normally was during class. It was still tucked away in your bag from class and the library.

Although the yelling certainly didn’t help. Holy shit, it was worse than Karkat when he was pissed.

“I’m sorry. I had a project to work on. I had to go to the library and take notes.” You say, trying to placate him somewhat.

“And you didn’t tell me that because it would’ve taken a whole ten seconds?” John’s retort is scathing, but he’s no longer yelling.

You’re going to take that as a good sign.

At least...you hope it’s a good sign.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize again. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Of course you weren’t.” This time his retort lacks energy.

You watch, wary, as the tension in his body slips out, almost like a sigh leaves a persons mouth. He slumps onto the couch, picking up the remote and turning the t.v. on. 

Even from where you stand, you can see that his attention isn’t really focused on it. His eyes seem to stare through the the t.v. It’s a look he gets when he’s lost in his thoughts.

As you close the door, you feel guilt flash through you. It’s worsened when you see that he had made dinner for the two of you. Your plate had been left on the counter, where it had gone cold. You had stayed at the library until closing time, and in all those hours you had never thought to call John and let him know you wouldn’t be home at the normal time. 

The sight of the night sky through the open window makes you wince.

Now, as you go into the kitchen to reheat your meal, all you can think about is John sitting here all night waiting for you to come home or call or something.

You fucked up.

As you finish eating, you know that you won’t be able to sleep until you fix this. Hell, you aren’t even sure that you would want to.

After you wash your plate, you go to the couch where John is still sitting. Seeing how he’s only taking up part of the couc, you seat yourself on the spot next to him. When he doesn’t turn to look at you, you lean over and let your weight rest against him he continues to pay you no mind, so you turn your head and lick his cheek.

He jumps away from you, sputtering indignantly. 

“Dave! What the hell?!” He shouts.

“What? You don’t mind it when I run my tongue against other things…” You let your voice trail off, waggling your eyebrows and smirking suggestively. 

He glares at you, but the way he blushes at you teasing implication makes it less potent. Now that you have his full attention, you’re going to make full use of it.

You let all hints of levity leave your expression. Sliding your shades to the top of your head, you look him in the eyes fully. His gaze softens just the slightest bit, and that gives you courage to continue. 

“Look, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I was so busy focusing on getting part of that project out of the way, I didn’t think about calling to let you know I wasn’t coming home at my normal time.”

He doesn’t say anything for what seems like forever. Just as you begin to resign yourself to sleeping alone tonight, he lets out a sigh and sits next to you. 

“I’m sorry too. I was being stupid.” He says leaning against you.

“You weren’t being stupid. You were worried. It wasn’t fair for you to have to sit here all night wondering where I was and if I was okay.” As you say this, you lean in, nuzzle your nose against the crook of his neck, and finish off the display of affection by pressing a kiss against the spot. 

He snorts and bumps his head against yours lightly. The action makes you smile. Not a smirk, but an actual smile.

After the two of you had gotten together, it hadn’t taken long for you to stop trying to hide your emotions from him. Besides, after the two of you had moved in together to go to college, he had become pretty adept at reading your body language to determine what you were feeling.

“Dave? Dave!” You are brought out of your thoughts to find John snapping his fingers in front of your face.

Shit, you must’ve spaced out. 

“Why don’t we go to bed?” John asks. “You look exhausted.”

“No shit, sherlock.” You tease, but your body suddenly feels heavy.

John rolls his eyes and stands up. Without his body supporting your weight, you nearly topple over onto the couch. You catch yourself just in time but not before John sees and laughs at you.

“Shut up.” You mutter.

“That’s what you get for overworking yourself.” He says. “Now, come on, let’s go.”

He puts your arm around his shoulder, and wraps his free arm around your waist. The he picks you up and half walks half drags you to one of your bedrooms.

“Shut up,” you mutter again, your words now slurred with sleep. “You act like you didn’t do the same thing a few weeks,” a yawn interrupts you, “ago.”

“Exactly. Take it from someone who knows.”

You grumble incoherently, your mind too fatigued to form a witty retort.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t fall asleep just yet.”

You growl at the use of the petname and John laughs.

You feel your legs stumble into something that your tired eyes recognize as a bed.

No longer needing John’s help, you flop ungracefully onto the mattress and slide under the covers. As soon as your eyes shut, you fall asleep.  
____

Your name is John Egbert and your boyfriend is freaking adorable. However, he would probably punch anyone who said so..

You stare fondly at his sleeping form for a moment. Then, you pluck his shades from the top of his head and fold them up. He’s managed to keep them in immaculate condition, and you put them on the bedside table for tomorrow. Your smile widens as you consider how much he values the gift you bought him all those years ago.

You lean down and place a kiss against his temple.

“Goodnight Dave.”

Your whisper falls on deaf ears, but as your body reminds you of your exhaustion, you don’t really care.

Slipping out of your bedroom quietly, you go into the living room. As quickly as you can manage, you shut off the t.v. and all the lights. 

Returning to your bedroom, you slip out of your jeans and t-shirt and into your sleepwear. Really, it’s only another, looser t-shirt and a pair of boxers but you don’t care. You’ll call it sleepwear if you want.

You slip your glasses off and place them next to Dave’s shades on the bedside table. Then you get into bed, not worried about waking Dave. You know he’s dead to the world right now.

You wrap your arm around Dave’s waist and quickly fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.


End file.
